


Secret Hobbies Best Kept Secret

by Androids_in_Metropolis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter-Movies
Genre: Angst, BoyxBoy, Cute, Cute story, Draco/Harry - Freeform, Drarry, Fill, Fluff, Golden Trio, Harry Potter - Freeform, Hogwarts, M/M, Male on Male, MalexMale, Reasons why, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sad, Slash, Slytherin, Tumblr Prompt, back story, school days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:44:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3798955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Androids_in_Metropolis/pseuds/Androids_in_Metropolis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco has a little secret hobby, and a lot of secret life. He has a few things that people shouldn't, or wouldn't want to, know. He has fears, and reasons why. He has no friends, and no one to turn to. </p><p>What happens when someone is there for him for the first time in forever? </p><p>(So sorry, crappy summary)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret Hobbies Best Kept Secret

**Author's Note:**

> A tumblr prompt: #544 Draco experiments with crossdressing and Harry finds it more than just a little sexy. 
> 
> I would love it if you guys would comment and tell me what you think! I am just getting back into writing for the fandom, and well, this is what I came up with. I am always happy to answer questions, and I always reply to comments! 
> 
> xxx  
> Love ya. 
> 
> And without further ado, here it is.

It was a hobby. 

It was a hobby no one was supposed to know about-What you call, a secret hobby. It wasn’t the type of hobby that you take out to air, letting the people see and praise. It was the type of hobby you hid in a closet, so to speak, along with the rest of yourself, in the young Malfoy’s case. 

Draco jumped as he heard the stairs creak, quickly slipping out of the billowy night dress he had put on just moments before. Underneath he had his clothes on-The clothes his father had picked out. A pair of tight fitting pants, a black dress shirt, and green and silver socks. He quickly pushed the offending bundle of fabric under the bed and shut the closet door, pushing the full length mirror affixed to the back inwards too. 

“Draco?” came his father’s oily voice from in the hall, his bedroom door being slowly pushed open. Nothing about his father was quick-Nothing except his temper, and his mouth that is. The number of times the elder Malfoy had slowly walked down the hall towards a shivering house elf, or even Draco himself, his shoes slowly clicking as his mouth shot off, a string of profanities vomited into the air were innumerable. 

“Come in, father,” Draco said, quickly moving to open the door for the older man. His father’s lean figure was leaning easily against the door frame. It was as if he couldn’t even have been bothered to really open the door for himself. Biting his lip Draco thought he probably really hadn’t been bothered at all. Lucius Malfoy wasn’t the type of man to do much for himself, not as long as there was someone around who would do the dirty work for him. Draco silently seethed. It was a position he was used to be now-Silent seething. 

“Draco, I need your things packed and ready to go in half an hour. You are going to Hogwarts this year. Get ready.” Lucius’s words came as a complete surprise to the young boy standing in front of him, pretending to be languid. Looking lazy is an art that the Malfoy’s had perfected, and by the time Draco was born, it was pretty near genetic to look blank and have one’s ears pricked up at the same time. Lucius had refused to let Draco go to Hogwarts when he was eleven, and twelve, and thirteen, and fourteen. It was just now, on the dawn of his fifteenth birthday, that he was finally giving in. 

Silently screaming with joy Draco nodded, “Yes father.” He would question the elder’s motives for letting him go later, if there even were ulterior motives. Lucius was a man apt to get bored, and when he was bored, he tended to make big decisions lightly. 

Lucius curtly nodded before slowly spinning on one polished heal and exiting his son’s room. Draco meanwhile was counting his blessings, wondering how many of his clothes he could bring and which he would have to burn. He wouldn’t want anyone to see them when he was gone, not there to keep a watchful eye on his dirty little secret. Most of them would fit in his trunk, with the black robes and books and cauldrons that had magically appeared there only moments before. 

\--------------

Up until his fifteenth birthday the youngest member of the Malfoy household had been tutored, privately. He didn’t see other kids often, so it came as no surprise that when he did finally get to meet many kids his age from all classes and backgrounds that he shied away from them, putting up a cold Malfoy front. He called on his father’s snottiness, and his mother’s cool stare and employed both as a mask to hide behind. He would scare younger students, but not by talking to them, more often than not, it was what he didn’t say that kept them away. 

The one student who bothered him, always trying to see what he was hiding, always snooping around and looking for parts of him that he had worked so hard to keep out of sight was the one and only Harry Potter. 

Harry Potter was fascinated by the blond boy. He watched him, waiting for a slip up, some kind of glimpse at his real feelings. Harry, of course, had witnessed plenty of fake people while living with his aunt and uncle and detestable cousin, but none of them were quite like Draco. It was hard to explain what he was, and while ‘Fake’ was one of the words he would use to describe him, it was one in a whole slew of others. 

Draco Malfoy was an enigma. 

An annoying enigma at times, but Harry supposed he deserved it. He did get in the other’s way quite often, and sometimes deliberately, playing an elaborate game of cat and mouse with the skittish 16 year old. 

A year. That’s a long time-365 days, or 8,765 hours, or, if you will, 525949 minutes. Still, Harry knew next to nothing about the strange, and somewhat snobbish blond who had appeared out of nowhere during their fifth year at the only Wizarding school in England. 

Harry Potter, the savior, as some had taken to calling him as if he was some sort of masiya, was a man on a mission. Something about Draco Malfoy bothered him like hell, and while he didn’t know what, he was determined to find out during this, their second year together. Whatever this brat was hiding behind his cold front Harry would find out. He wasn’t sure why he was so desperate to know about the blond boy’s life, but he knew he wouldn’t rest until he knew every facet of his facade. 

Draco was a shivering child hiding behind a parentally generated shield, hiding every piece of him that was really him. Every piece that had had made himself, or chosen to be, or been born with that wasn’t strictly part of the Malfoy mold. Every little sparkle that was really his, all the glitter that couldn’t be vacuumed away. He needed protecting, and someday the shield would crack, and Harry would be there to help him out of the debris. 

Harry Potter was a protector, not always by choice, but when he had the choice he always swung towards ‘yes’. 

\----------------

Draco sat hidden in his private Slytherin room. There weren’t dormitories like the other three houses had, and for that Draco was grateful. He was grateful for two reasons, the first being that he was always more of a loner, and the second being he was free to be exactly who he wanted to be as long as he could whisk all his private life under the bed when his father came on rare visits. 

Undressing in front of the mirror Draco looked over himself, not entirely pleased with what he saw, but not displeases either. He didn’t mind his small frame, and pale skin. He didn’t really mind his light eyes, or unruly white blond hair. He didn’t like the way his slacks hung low on his hips, or the way his dress shirt sagged over one shoulder. Luckily, as he undressed, these little annoyances left him. He slipped on the white night gown with pink roses at the hem, looking over himself and smiling. It made him look...pretty. It was something he always longed for, and could only seem to achieve when he was on his own. He had never shown anyone how pretty he could be-Especially not his family. Not even an elf had seen him at his finest. 

He smiled as a slight draft blue the skirt around his pale, skinny legs. He looked nice...he looked normal. This was how he was supposed to be. It was a pity and a crime that no one would ever know how he was. He had learned from early on that this was not a side people would appreciate as he did. This wasn’t the hobby you shared. This wasn’t the little nudge that people wanted, a peephole into your private life. This was a harsh slap into reality delivered by the thorns of pink spray roses. 

Malfoy’s did not appreciate being slapped. 

Draco padded over to his door, making double sure it was locked before climbing into bed and drawing the slightly itchy Hogwarts issue sheets around himself. He liked the feel of his legs against each other. They slid easily, smooth skin against smooth skin. In his own room, away from home, his own place, there was nothing to hide at night. Everything could be let out to air. 

All the squib like secrets, the phantoms of reality more real than the lies painted elaborately over every orifice of his being-See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil. 

Closing his eyes Draco was free to dream, and dream he did. He dreamed of pretty boys, and flirting. He dreamed of finding someone who he could show everything-Every part of him-to. Someone who wouldn’t care about his strange appearance, and wouldn’t cry or laugh when he wore whatever the bloody hell he wanted to. Someone who was curious and bright, and wanted to know his secrets. Someone who was there to care. Someone he could care for. 

\-----------

Harry sat in the great hall drinking a glass of somewhat spiked pumpkin juice (courtesy of the Weasley twins and a small bottle of firewhisky) and staring at a certain blond boy as he absentmindedly listened to his best friends bikker around him, and over him. 

“Harry!” Hermione said shrilly, poking the afore said Wizard in the arm with her wand. “Harry, are you even listening?” She sounded exasperated and Harry thought it would be best to just nod along, a slight grin on his face. 

Honestly, he didn’t know what they were talking about. Only a few minutes before it had been over his, Harry’s, grades and how Ron was distracting him from giving his all, but the subject could easily have changed to something as far fetched as rainbow coloured newts since he had tuned out a few minutes prior. 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he muttered, cracking a devilish grin almost involuntarily. He really was a horrid lier. He had been much too distracted by Malfoy and his mysterious allure to pay attention to his friends, and as it sounded, it was true. They were somewhat predictable after five years of knowing them, but Malfoy...malfoy was something new, a conundrum to be solved. He was a mysterious force, with fairly like whims-Why he did what he did, nobody knew. 

“Oh, Harry, you have no idea what I just said, do you?” Hermione sighed, giving up and shrugging at an equally perplexed Ron. It had only been two days since the school year had again started, and Harry already seemed more preoccupied than usual. It was all to do with the horrible cuetip, Malfoy. Even Hermione agreed that he was a simply ghastly boy, and not to be messed with or talked to if possible, and normally she was an amiable person who tried her best to see the good in everyone. While Malfoy wasn’t exactly bad, in her mind, he wasn’t a nice guy. He was quite nasty. At least he didn’t talk down to woman, she admitted, standing up and brushing down her robes. 

“I will see you after class,” she said seriously, and pointedly at Harry. With that she swept out of the room. 

Ron smiled, standing up himself and nodding, “Catch ya later mate, and if I were you...stay out of her way,” he muttered, smiling as he slapped Harry on the shoulder and left the hall as well. 

Harry, meanwhile, smiled and nodded but his mind was a billion kilometers away, wondering what to do about Draco. He would find out about this year, if it was the last thing he did-Wait, no, he had to kill Voldimort...so, if it was the second to last thing he did. 

Grabbing his things he followed the blond out of the Great Hall, determined to follow him all day if that’s what it took. 

He didn’t stop to think how stalkerish and obsessive he had become over the other boy-By now it was just one less secret he wanted to deal with. 

\---------------

Draco looked over his shoulder as he walked lazy down to the Great Lake. He felt the distinct sensation of being followed. It made him uneasy, and he quickly wiped the tears away from his cheeks. He was starting to feel trapped, and even as he convinced himself it was all in his head, that no one was after him, he began to feel his walls crumble. He would have them up again in a few hours, as he always did, but for now he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears much longer. 

He had never talked to anyone without lying. ‘Draco, isn’t she hot?’ Blaise would whisper against his ear about some barely legal kid, and he would have to agree or point out the fact that she was a child. Neither option was wanted, the only difference between the two was that one felt worse and it was the one he ended up doing most often. ‘Draco, isn’t that an ugly woman?’ Pansy would snicker as she looked at the drag queen on Diagon Alley. Draco was forced to agree or come off as creepy. ‘Draco, isn’t that weird?’ Crabb would churtle as he spotted two male students locked at the lips by the whomping Willow. Draco was forced to agree. 

More hot tears sprung to his eyes and again he hurried to wipe them away, choking on a sob as it rose in his throat. He had to make it to his hiding place, and then he could cry. He would skip the rest of the classes for the day, he didn’t really have a choice. No one could see him this way-His father would hear about it. 

Making it into the Forbidden Forest he made a quick right turn, making his way quickly to the little hole of a house he had magiced under a tree during his first year. He couldn’t hide in his room during school hours, someone would know, here was the only safe place. Climbing (falling) into the hole he let his tears run freely, a strangled yell erupting from his throat. It eerily reminded the boy standing over the hole of a wounded animal. It was so sad, and desperate. It was a cry for help. 

Harry sat down next to the small, camouflaged hole, and listened to Draco cry...when he had followed the other boy out of the building, skipping several classes to do so, this had not been what he had expected. He wasn’t even sure what he had expected, but somehow sadness, despair, hadn’t been on the radar at all. After a brief mental battle the young self proclaimed hero jumped carefully into the hole, careful to to make too much noise and scare the shit out of the already crying boy. 

 

The invisibility cloak made sure that no shadow of his passed over the other, and only his soft breathing and the rustle of leaves alerted Draco of the other boy’s presence. 

“W-who’s there?” he called softly, pulling out his wand and aiming it at no place in particular. His tear stained face was contorted in fear and sadness. He wasn’t ready to face anyone just yet...he wasn’t even ready to be near anyone. “I’m warning you, I am not in the mood for this!” He shouted, though it wasn’t very threatening and he knew it. 

Harry quickly shrugged the cloak off, putting his hands in the air. He didn’t want to fight, it was obvious that it got them nowhere, and Draco was in no state for a duel anyway. Sitting down without saying a word, and hoping Draco wouldn’t run away. He wouldn’t exactly blame him if he did. 

Draco swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He could walk away, or he could stay...It wasn’t as if he could humiliate himself of Potter any further than he already had, well, maybe by running away. Making up his mind he sat down next to the other boy, trying to hold back tears and not daring to open his mouth. 

Harry took the fact that he had stayed as a good sign, and silently offered the other boy a hug, letting him know it was alright to cry. He didn’t need to be ashamed. Of course, Harry wouldn’t say it out loud, but he tried his best to get it across. 

Malfoy slowly let himself be held by Harry, relaxing enough to cry into the other’s shoulder. Harry didn’t say a word, just rocking back and forth and letting the other boy cry for a little while. He wouldn’t ever say it wasn’t awkward to be holding his rival like he did, whispering little assurances as time dragged on. He wouldn’t say it wasn’t bold of him to ask what the matter was half an hour later when the other’s tears seemed to have run dry. 

All he would say is he is glad he did. 

“Potter, why should I tell you?” Draco asked, his voice rather muffled in the other boy’s black robes. He honestly wanted to know. Up until a few hours ago they had been sworn enemies, or at least, so it had seemed. They had yelled at each other, fired jinxes at each other, bad mouthed each other...Draco had done everything to annoy the boy who seemed to find enjoyment in making him mad. Potter wasn’t hiding anything-Potter was the frikking golden child of the whole damn wizarding world. He could do no wrong. 

 

Harry bit his lip, not sure how to answer. He had to measure his response carefully as any wrong move seemed liable to make Draco leave him, and possibly never talk to him again. It was an embarrassing situation, even Harry could tell that.

Finally he decided to just come out, “‘Cause I want to know about you,” he whispered, a soft smile on his face. “I want to know why you don’t like me, and what I can do to change that. It’s silly, but I like to be liked...I want to get to know you.” 

It was simple as that. 

Draco swallowed hard, a nervous tick, and didn’t move his head from the other’s shoulder. 

“No one knows me,” he whispered, his voice rasping. Harry could barely hear him, but made it out in the end. 

“So let me know you,” Harry suggested, running his hand down the other’s tense neck, trying to get Draco to relax a little. The other boy’s whole body was tense, and now he felt as if they were in an even more delicate position than when Malfoy had been bawling moments earlier. “I won’t tease,” he added, quickly. He knew what it was like to be teased, and while it was all fun and games among friends, it did get old. 

Draco shivered, “Why, Potter? How can I trust you? You...You’re perfect. Everybody already loves you,” he mumbled, feeling more like a bratty child with every word. “But I? I have to work to even be loved by my parents. At least yours are dead.” 

Harry shook his head. “You just have to believe me when I say you can, and you have to talk to someone Malfoy. It’s no good to be alone.” 

\--------------

Draco walked out of his small closet wearing his favourite blue dress, his blond hair ruffled and falling around his face. His cheeks were burning, and he slowly turned in front of Harry, waiting for some sort of admonishment, or some exclamation of horror. He didn’t know why he had taken the other boy to his room and let him see this part of him he had worked so hard to keep hidden, but he had. Maybe he just needed to finally let someone in, and Harry was really a no worse choice than many other people. 

“So?” he asked, turning to face the ‘chosen one’. He didn’t dare look him in the eye, instead looking at his feet. “Now you know me. I am a gay, ugly, disgusting wizard. What now?” he asked, almost defiant like he was daring Harry to say otherwise. It was true-He was a creep. A freak. No one would ever respect, or even look at him again. Harry could tell the whole school. Everyone would know. 

Harry shook his head, blushing himself. 

“No, Malfoy, you look nice. I don’t know anything but possibly your favourite colour,” Harry said cooly, almost flirtily. “Why don’t you tell me something else? Like, what’s your middle name?” 

Draco was shocked into silence for a moment-He was sure that Harry’s opinion on wanting to get to know him would have changed as soon as he knew his secrets, but the other boy still seemed just as intent on finding out everything about him. He didn’t seem to have malicious intent...and as the dark haired wizard scooted over over Draco’s bed and offered for him to come sit with him (a little presumptuous, yes) Draco found himself doing so, leaning back on the other boy’s arm and telling him about himself, and in turn asking a few questions of his own. 

“My name is Draco Lucius Malfoy,” he admitted, blushing more. His father had insisted that he be named after himself in one way or another. “And what is yours?” he asked, making himself slightly more comfortable on the bed, and stretching his legs out in front of him. 

“Harry James Potter,” Harry laughed, letting Draco know he wasn’t the only one ‘discreetly’ named after his father. “And what is your favourite thing to do, honestly?” He asked, frowning as he leaned against Draco’s head board, and stretched a crick in his neck. 

“Honestly?” Draco asked, beginning to feel a little light hearted himself. “Dressing up, and looking at cute boys,” he said, his flirty tone not going unnoticed by a certain Harry Potter. “And yours, Harry James?” he asked, honestly curious about what the boy who lived liked to do in his free time. 

Harry chuckled, “Uh, quidditch and looking at certain blond wizards trying to figure out why they don’t like me, and, may I ask, why that is?” Harry asked, hinting on his fascination with the other male. 

Draco bit his lip, blushing. “I don’t...didn’t,” he corrected himself, “like you because you were perfect and didn’t have to hide anything. You weren’t like me,” he said, a more serious tone taking a stand. 

“But, Draco, I do hide things. I am gay, I bet you didn’t know that,” Harry challenged, raising one eyebrow and staring down at the slightly shorter boy leaning against his shoulder. He was busy resorting everything he had ever thought about Draco Malfoy, and while he was at it, he was slightly exulting over the fact that he had succeeded in just one day in finding out things that had taken him a year to get up to finding out. He also had to admit that Draco was cute, and that they were awfully close to each other and that he liked the way he smelled. 

Draco shook his head, pulling away slightly. “You’re messing with me, don’t tease me, you promised.” He sounded a little hurt, and Harry quickly rushed to fix it. 

“No, I am not! I am serious...why would I be teasing you?” Harry asked, slightly hurt. It wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to, but it hurt more coming from Draco. After all, they were in this little believey mood. Why would he tease him like that?

Draco blushed, “Sorry, I just didn’t think the Chosen One would be...you know, into blokes,” he muttered, already feeling embarrassed for how stupid it sounded. Why wouldn’t the Chosen One be into blokes? It wasn’t against any rules or anything, after all. There probably weren’t even rules when you were the Chosen One.  
Harry laughed, “Nah, girls are alright, I just don’t swing that way, mate,” he chortled, finding it ridiculously funny now that it had been explained. “It’s just, well, yeah. It is what it is.”

Draco nodded, he knew what it was. It was the faint blush climbing into his own cheeks, and the he hoped it was the same one in Harry’s. 

\-----------------

It had been months since they had gotten to know each other for the first time, and now they were still getting to know each other, huddled in Draco’s bed in his little room. Secrets had been told, and little bits and pieces had fallen into place. A beautiful puzzle was easy enough to solve if you had all the pieces, and when you were the pieces it was easy enough to find the missing ones. 

“Do you want to know another thing that I have hidden?” Harry whispered, giggling slightly as Draco cuddled closer to him, his pale legs visible from under the rose trimmed hem of his night dress. 

Draco nodded sleepily. It was the first time in his life he had a friend to talk to, someone to watch muggle movies with. Someone to laugh with, and at, and who would laugh back. Someone who would cuddle (Harry was definitely a cuddler) and help keep his skinny self warm as winter drew closer. 

“I like your dress,” Harry said, leaning over and brushing his fingers along the neckline, rubbing his thumb across Draco’s collar bones. He was admitting to himself that he had fallen for the blond pure blood, and he couldn’t wait any longer to let him know. Brushing the hair away from his eyes he bent quickly down and kissed the other boy lightly on the lips, drawing back almost immediately to see what Draco’s reaction would be. 

Draco blinked once, but found that he liked it, maybe even felt the same way Harry seemed to. Reaching up he pulled his friend’s face back to his, kissing him more deeply, trying to figure out where to put his hands and his lips and how to move. It was a completely new sensation to him. He had never been kissed, or kissed anyone, like this before, or at all. 

Harry kissed him back, glad to be recirculated, and at the same time wondering how he could explain this to Ron...Hermione would be easy-She was a romantic, but Ron on the other hand, well, that bridge would have to be burned slightly later on. 

“I like you, Draco Lucius Malfoy. You’re pretty, and wonderful, and sweet, and clever, and witty…” Harry mumbled against the other’s mouth. He could have gone on forever, but Malfoy pulled away. 

“Oh shut up, Potter. Just kiss me.”

It looked like Daco Malfoy had found himself a new secret hobby.


End file.
